Second Chapter.

---

“Kreia said that I make people follow me. That I feed off of their force and make them want to give their life for mine.”

“Do you think that is why I want to protect you? No. I protect you because, like I said, you’re my friend. And possibly the savior of the Republic.”

 ----

Suddenly she’s everywhere around me and I cannot stop myself from feeling these things that I do within the cold cave of my heart. There is a strange light all of a sudden in this cave, warming my body from the inside out. Her passion is infectious, it would seem. It’s a sickness, a virus of sorts, which consumes me and triumphs over all thoughts of rational nature.

Yes, Taris all over again. No, just like the Endar Spire, it's not exactly eager to conform to the script. Mainly because this story's 'hero' would still rather date a gizka than engage in sword duels. Which is why it's actually other people who save the day. Extras:

'Hey, hey, hey! I said "scout", not "useless lump of meat who needs a brawny thug to baby-sit her".' Her blasters were still in their holsters. Good. Time for them to get some air. 'See Duke and Paul here, mister? They can inflict a world of terror, especially if someone points them at your back.' Laughter was not exactly what she had been expecting as a sign that confidence in her ability to handle herself had overwhelmed him. He really did not seem that convinced; more like hovering carefully between deep amusement and disbelief. And it was contagious. She put her weapons back in their places, shrugged and tried one last time. 'It would behove you to fear us. Grrr.'

His lips were still quirking at the corners. 'A scout who can barely reach my shoulder if she wears her hair in a bun? Whose voice could freak out an entire herd of bantha if it tried hard enough and had a full night of rest and a bad case of laryngitis? Who names her blasters? Please don't hurt me.' 

The crew of the Hawk touch down on Tatooine.

Aboard Peragus Station, Atton's mistakes rise up to haunt him - along with other relics from his past.

The first part in the tale of the Jedi Orders Black Ops division.

Revan, in combat with a random lizardman, shows us that those iconic Sith armored robes don't come with a skirt.

Silently, the mask stared at him, the sounds of destruction softening into an ambiance in his head.

Soulreaper had served his purpose. That horrid part of him that needed no justification to kill, the part of him that would act first and think later, the part of him that he let kill Darth Malak, his old friend Aleksie; he was finished with him.

It occurred to Carth that Juhani had to be far, far angrier at Dyran right now than she had ever been at Carth. This realization stirred a vague sense of male camaraderie, but even more, it inspired an urge to point and laugh in glorious, relieved hilarity over the fact that someone else was suffering for a change.

Out of morbid curiosity and black, black humour, Carth kept following Dyran. "Why is it you so desperately need me around?"

"So I can use you as a human shield."

Mandalorian Wars: Squint and his team are on a secret mission, and the Mandalorians have discovered his location!  The only trouble is, the people who know he's been discovered don't know where he is.  Can the Republic discover their location on time?

Returning to Katarr in her old age, Visas is the last living member of the original New Order Jedi. As she prepares for her death, she attempts to explain her life and the fates of the Ebon Hawk crew.

One-shot. Post - New Order and The Stars.

A short piece loosely based on the old favourite 'the night before christmas'. Merry christmas everyone, and to all, a good night!

“You’re late, Mission. Are you okay?” Revan said.

“Fark off!!” Mission grumbled at Revan, as she wheeled her way into the map room.

“Settle down, Mission.  I just needed to start the briefing, and I wanted to know what was going on,” Revan said, calmly.

“You can screw your briefing, Revan,” Mission said, and then turned her attention to Zaalbar.  “And where are my damn painkillers?”

Atton settled uncomfortably. It had been a very long time since he was
in such close proximity to anyone, let alone a woman. A woman with a
knife. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, he thought uneasily.

Anna was drenched. Her robe was heavily trapped along her body; her blonde hair was fastened to her porcelain face. Seemingly unfazed, she continued to perform her routine. Her expression was a frown from the intense concentration. The lightsaberstaff in her hands seemed to have a life of its own, gliding through the rain in such a flawless rhythm. The hissing cadence sounded soothing.

“Thought this’d happen,” she gasps out, her head flopping from one side
to the other. “Said too much to expect anything else. Only say things
before you die.”

It rolled down the bare skin of her cheek, leaving behind it a silky trail of crimson; beautifully, gorgeously red. It glinted momentarily as the half-light of a moon, obscured partially by clouds, caught its beautiful surface, a miniature sunburst of diamond light. His eyes followed it down her cheek, her chin; watched it fall, slow motion, to a breast covered with Jedi robes saturated by the sky's tears. On impact, it shattered and spread, spilling open, showing him its inside before being washed away; diluted, corrupted.

Stupid boy.

Bastila hit back; threw a fist, an elbow, a knee, a forehead. Everything she did seemed only to amuse her attacker, but still she kept at it, refusing to give in. Izaya's screams continued ringing in her ears as she battled desperately, the sounds permeating the fresh morning air with the frightful odor of despair, horror, and helpless suffering.

It is said the Force began at Avalon but where did the Avalonians come from? Summoned from the Jedi of the Republic and the temples of Avalon, Kirabaros ventures to the mythical Miako in order to fight in the greatest of battles.

Mical On Telos

Atton always has to have his say about everything...but when Ember gives an order, he usually finds that he cannot refuse.

One of her arms was bent at an unnatural angle, she was covered in dust and debris from the fall, and every inch of her plundered Dark Jedi robes were soaked in blood, leaving thick red stains on the floor beneath her. One of her knees was swollen and twisted. Through incredible force of will, she struggled to her feet, limping upright.

"This isn't over, Malak!" Bastila cried.

My father told me a story. The story had one beginning but two endings. It was like a fish with a split in its tail.

Depending on his mood, my father would tell it one way or the other. After a while, he stopped telling it at all. As I grew older, I no longer asked for stories and he ceased to speak them into the darkness as I drifted off to sleep. It wasn’t until after he died that all the stories came swimming back to me through the black water of my memory.   

One evening away from the crew helps the Exile to chose between Atton and the Disciple.

When Atton Rand met the Exile for the fist time...

Good or Evil??

A harsh noise suddenly woke Bastila and she jerked upright in her chair. She didn't know how long she'd been dozing but there was still no sign of the sun in the sky outside. For a moment she couldn't find the source of the disturbance, until her eyes found the dark, silhouetted form of Aliid staggering into the house.

Blood dripped from his mechanical fingers.

The continuing saga of the Sarin/Juhani/Carth love triangle. In this case, Carth realizes he still loves Sarin after all.

Revan was evaluating the state of his fingernails, which were abominably torn and ragged, when he finally heard the voice of his rescuer.

“Where is she?”

It was not the greeting he’d been looking for, but then everything about this visitor was decidedly unexpected.